


Harmless (Not Really)

by Higuchimon



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Diversity Writing Challenge, Gen, Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal Flash Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3232655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Higuchimon/pseuds/Higuchimon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He looks harmless.  Cute.  Fluffy.  Looks are very deceiving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harmless (Not Really)

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit. All forms of feedback eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.  
 **Fandom:** Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal  
 **Title:** Harmless (Not Really)  
 **Characters:** III  
 **Word Count:** 500|| **Status:** One-shot  
 **Genre:** General|| **Rated:** PG-13  
 **Challenge:** Written for the Zexal Flash Bingo Challenge; prompt #120, III/Michael Arclight; Written for the Diversity Writing Challenge, section A, #57, write a 500 word drabble.  
 **Summary:** He looks harmless. Cute. Fluffy. Looks are very deceiving.

* * *

He looked harmless. He looked rather _cute_ , all things considered, with fluffy pink hair and the kind of outfit that no one in Heartland wore unless some kind of convention filled the streets. 

They noticed the sword. It couldn't be missed. None of them _noticed_ it as anything they needed to concern themselves with. Who used a sword these days? It was likely fake, something to make him look more dangerous than he really was, what with how short and _adorable_ he was. A few wanted to pinch his cheeks as well as find out the contents of his wallet. With that outfit, the contents would be worth it. 

The leader cracked his knuckles. "All right, let's go see what pretty boy over there has to offer. If anyone wants to ask him out, they can do it after I've got the money." He smirked. "I'll even pay for the date." 

Low, mocking laughter echoed from them as they followed their boss. They'd ruled this part of Heartland uncontended for over two years now. Rumor had it that the boss paid _someone_ to make certain no one disturbed their domination, but most of them didn't care. They got what they wanted and that was what mattered. 

The closer they got, the more they could hear the kid talking. It seemed their pretty boy was involved in a conversation with someone else. None of them could figure out how, since he wasn't wearing a D-Gazer, but there were other ways to call people, if more old-fashioned. 

"I'll have to call you back, Yuuma. I've got something to take care of right now. No, I won't be late. At least not very late, if I am." 

That was good enough for the boss. He lunged forward, hand reaching for the kid's shoulder. Which somehow suddenly wasn't there anymore, as the kid pivoted on one foot, grabbed hold of the boss's wrist, and threw him into a wall. The rest of the gang froze as their would-be victim's sword flashed out of the sheath and buried itself next to the boss's head, a breath away from his skin. 

"I _don't_ think it's a good idea for you to try this," he said, his voice unnaturally calm, his lips smiling in a way that reminded the one or two of them who followed dueling of someone they'd seen somewhere. "Though if you want a good fight, I can give it to you." 

The boss swallowed, eyes flicking to the blade so close to his head he could feel the steel kiss of it. "N...no, no, sir. Sorry to bother you, sir. We...mistook you for someone else?" 

The word 'fanservice' floated through the dueling fans' minds at the boy's smile. "As long as it doesn't happen again. Understood?" All of them nodded eagerly, and he pulled his sword up. "Good." 

Without another word, he headed on his way. The gang stared after him, resolving as one never to approach anyone who looked harmless again. 

**The End**


End file.
